One Final Trick
by CaptainS10
Summary: Post-Endgame. The world has said its goodbyes to Tony Stark. Everyone, including Pepper, has resigned themselves to his death, and is simply trying to move on and adjust to life without him. Until she gets a phone call from the grave. It seemed Tony had one final trick up his sleeve - if she can help him pull it off.


**Soo... yeah, this isn't my update day. But I've been toying with several concepts to fix the end of Endgame for a while now, and I finally was able to sit down and crank this one out today. I do have another in my head, but who knows how long it'll be before I can get into the ****right**** emotional place to do that one. **

**I don't know how long this will be yet, or anything like that. I just finally got this one out of me and decided to push it out to you guys. If there's any typos or anything, sorry; I literally just wrote it, and I am the only set of eyes that has looked over it this round. So yeah, for now, just enjoy, and if you want to see more of this, let me know. Love you all 3000! 3**

Every time.

Every time someone said his name. Every time she got a phone call. Every time someone gave her condolences. Every time someone asked how she or Morgan was doing. Every time she entered his old office. Every time she saw his picture. Every time she walked into her God-forsaken _house_.

It was like the pain was fresh. A fresh pang would hit her, and she had to try not to cry.

She did her best not to show it, especially for Morgan's sake. She still had a company to run, a child to take care of, and a million and one reasons why she couldn't just break down.

She was doing pretty good, or at least she liked to think so. Even if it was hard not to toss around blame and guilt, and to stop the million and one "what ifs" that would pop in her head at the worst of times. She was managing; and that was all anyone could hope to do right now in this mess that had become the world.

It was three days after the funeral - about two weeks since the battle against Thanos - when she got the phone call that flipped her grief-filled world on its head.

It was a late Monday morning. She was at the cabin, although Morgan was currently out with Happy in the city. She'd been letting everyone take turns visiting with her and taking her places as they pleased, as much because it gave her time to both grieve and try to work as because she knew everyone wanted to hold on to that last piece of Tony as she did. While Morgan didn't quite grasp what was going on, she definitely knew everyone around her was sad, and she knew that Tony hadn't come home. The permanence of it on a barely five year old child was something she wasn't quite sure if Morgan grasped fully or not.

Pepper sighed, running her hands through her messy hair and leaning back in the chair. She'd been doing the best she could to work from home, since she had no one else to watch Morgan consistently and she wasn't quite sure she was comfortable leaving her with someone all the time even if she did. She hardly wanted to give her up to her many admirers, but she knew she couldn't keep her locked up in the cabin her whole life, no matter how strong the urge was.

Her phone rang from somewhere off to the side. She reached over and grabbed it blindly, putting it up to her ear and trying to put on her best professional voice. Whoever was calling didn't need to know she was lounging around in her pajamas, doing her best to work through her misery and failing quite spectacularly. She took a breath. "Pepper Potts," she greeted as she answered.

She only got one word in answer, and it was enough to make her freeze.

"Pepper."

Tony's voice.

Oh, God. She clutched her chest, wondering if this was what a heart attack felt like, the way her heart was hammering so hard and fast it physically hurt. This wasn't possible, wasn't-

"It's me. Listen, whatever you're saying, whatever you're thinking, just don't. I can't hear you." He stopped for a minute, and she heard him sigh slightly, could picture him rubbing his face as he struggled for words. "I'm sorry for this. A recording like this isn't my favorite way to do things, but I already recorded a hologram, and I just… I needed to make sure this would go to you and only you, and so it just wouldn't mesh, and…" He stopped, groaning a bit. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling. If I had more time, I'd start over, but I don't, so here goes."

Pepper couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't _breathe_. She just clung to the phone. Whatever this last message was, she could tell it was going to be important, or else Tony wouldn't have sent it to her. She had so many questions, but she couldn't even begin to process them until this was over.

Tony's voice continued to speak, not knowing if she was listening or not and continuing forth with his message. "If you're getting this message… it's because I'm dead." He stopped, and she could picture him shifting, fidgeting with something around him to try to keep his hands occupied, to distill his nerves over whatever he was going to say. "I… don't know if you know when or how or any of the details, and I don't know how it happened. Maybe the whole time travel bit, maybe Thanos himself, I don't know. I just know this is tricky and dangerous and… if you've seen my other message, know that I meant what I said. Part of the journey is the end, and no death is ever timely. But for me to go right now… God, with Morgan, and everything that's already happened, and I just…

"Pepper, before I say anything else, you have to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I've ever put you through, including this. I never deserved you, and you never deserved anything I made you deal with either. And you can tell the others I'm sorry, too. One day, when Morgan is old enough to understand… well, hopefully that won't be necessary, but I'm getting ahead of myself."

He stopped again, taking a shaky breath. "If I'm dead right now, there's a reason, Pep. I hope I didn't go in vain, and I hope we won. But if I am, it's because someone needed to go, and so it had to be me. There's a million and one reasons for that that I don't have time to go into, but you'll just have to trust me when I say that. I'm sure you knew when you let me go into this that if there was any way for me to get the kid back, I would do it, universe be damned or not, even if it means my untimely death. And that alone is the only reason I need anyone to know."

"But I'm getting a bit off topic, and I don't have much time. Someone will come in here any minute looking for me. So here's what I need you to know, Pep." A chair creaked as he leaned forward. "There could be a way to bring me back."

Oh, this was definitely what a heart attack felt like. She clutched her arm, biting back a low whimper at the pain there. Or could loss and hope really feel this tangible? She bit her lip, willing the tears in her eyes to dissipate, her mind to stop spinning. She had to focus, had to _listen-_

"I'm going to give you a minute to process that before I continue, because explaining to someone who's going into shock is a waste of my time and yours." He stopped for a moment, and she could hear him sitting there, not saying anything, just breathing. It was the most precious moment of silence she'd heard in weeks, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to memorize the sound before he spoke again. "Okay. Time's up. If you're not listening, you'll just have to restart the message and listen to all that rambling again."

"Some of this stuff is even out of my league, and I don't understand all of it myself, so if it doesn't make sense, don't worry. You'll need help if you decide to carry it out anyway. And, I mean, obviously, if I'm dead because we lost, nothing I'm going to say will matter, if you're even alive to hear it, so don't worry about it then, either. Anyway, I'm going to try not to think like that, and pretend that I know we won and carry on from there."

"So with my knowledge of the Infinity Stones, and what Thanos did to acquire them, it's become fairly undeniable that we have… souls." He paused. "I don't know how that works, what with the Big Bang theory and the stones and that the idea of a soul is based in religion, typically, but I don't have time to get into it and try to find out. Considering the idea of Thanos and the stones and the aliens out there and all of that is enough to blow everything we think we know through science and religion completely out of the water in many ways, I guess it doesn't really matter. But that's not really the point.

"The point is that we do have them, and when we die, that soul still has to go somewhere. And I know if I have any say in the matter, mine is going to be connected to all the things that matter to me here. You. Morgan. Happy. Peter and even Harley, if we're able to bring them both back." He takes a breath, his pain almost palpable, even through the phone, and she could tell that in that moment he was trying to shut out the guilt and pain that assaulted him every time he thought of them. "If they're back, undeniably, a piece of me will be with them, just as much as you and Morgan. I will do everything in my power to watch over all of you. So you may have to gather them all for this, but not yet. Not right now."

"I'm sorry there's so many variables to this, just… bear with me." He sighed. "If my soul is still tied to you guys, then feasibly, if I could get a new body, I could… come back. Enter into it. But it would have to be my body. My DNA, all of that, otherwise… well, this whole thing is so untested, and I don't even know that _this _will work. I know there's theories, but that's all I have to work with here. Besides, I don't want any body besides my own. I know that sounds ludicrous, considering if I'm dead I should just take whatever I can and be happy to be alive, but… well. It's the truth."

"And this is where I need your help, Pepper, and where you're probably going to need others. I don't know how I died, so I don't know where my body is, what it looks like, if you even have it in this time. If you do, and it's salvageable, great. If not, Banner has some of my DNA. Don't ask him why; you don't really want to know, I assure you. But assuming he still has it, that should be a start. I'm sure you can find more of different kinds if you look around; he's got the tools to salvage it.

"What Bruce won't have is the tools to grow me a new one." He paused, letting that sink in. "You'll need the Wakandians for that. I don't know how tough of a sell it'll be to get T'Challa to help, but I know they have the tech to do it. Again, don't ask how; you don't want to know. I've done them some favors, though, so hopefully, it won't be a problem.

"God, there's so much in between stuff I can't even begin to help you with, Pepper, and I'm so sorry for that. And, ultimately, this is your decision." He swallowed thickly. "I… I can't ask you to do this, Pepper. Not really. If you're getting this, then, well, you've been through enough already, and I shouldn't be getting your hopes up like this. But I also couldn't just go on this mission and not leave something behind. Someone had to know it was possible. If not for me, now, maybe in the future, for someone else. If you don't want to get your hopes up with me, then don't. I understand. And you need to know, Pep, that if I died on this mission… I did it willingly. And I knew what I was doing, and I will do exactly what I said I would either way - I will watch over you, from wherever I am, whatever comes next, and one way or another, I'll always be with you."

He stopped, and gave a soft, breathless laugh. "God, listen to me. When did I become such a sap? It's from spending too much time with the kids, honestly." A beat of silence. "I… just spent fifteen minutes rambling into your ear, so I'm sorry for that. Hopefully, this message will never have to reach you. For now, I'm going to upload it to Friday, and if I haven't accessed her and deleted it approximately two weeks from the time it goes into her system, then she'll forward it to your phone. What you choose to do with this is completely up to you, Pep. Who you tell, how you go about it, if you want to at all… Wherever I am, if you're listening to this, know that I understand, and I don't want you to live with blame or guilt in any way. I did what I had to, and I knew what I was doing, what I was giving up. And no matter how bad it hurts… if it was my life for one or my life for the world, I would have had to go either way. It's better that it was just me, if at all possible, right?" One last, shaky breath. "Tell Morgan… well, you know what, I said that in the last one, and I love you both way more than 3000. So for now… just know I love you. Goodbye, Pepper."

The line went quiet. Then the robotic voice of her voicemail kicked on, asking if she wanted to listen to the message again, delete it, or to press zero for more options.

She ended the call instead, letting the phone drop from her hand.

She didn't know when she'd started crying, nor when exactly the pain in her chest had faded into shocked numbness. All she knew was that there was a way to bring him back, or at least a way to try to, and she owed it to everyone to try, even if she didn't want to herself. But _oh_, did she want to.

What she didn't want was to bring him back only for him to jump back into the thick of things, or for something to go horribly wrong and for him to not be the same as he was. She could take the devastation of this failing, for all of them, if it meant there was a shot; but only if it failed totally and completely. If he came back, but was brain-dead, or worse, she didn't think she could bear that.

But still. She owed it to everyone Tony had listed - and many more - to try. To at least take the first steps and see if it was even _possible_. Not that Tony hadn't set about on many an impossible task before and succeeded, but if no one else had any idea how to do it, then he just might fail this time, when it mattered most.

One last trick. One last try. One last shot at life.

When her hands finally stopped shaking, she picked up the phone again.


End file.
